Passions of the Devil
by Ultanerd
Summary: She is the incarnation of her name. A Rogue. Some think she is insane. Others think she is simply evil. Only those who look close enough see her for what she is... broken. The world is cruel and unforgiving, to live in it one must become the same.
1. Chapter 1

Okay guys this is the first chapter of my first fanfic EVER!!! I don't care what you put in your reviews I just want some feedback please.

**IMPORTANT: The world knows about mutants, and has for a while. The Xavier Institute is still secret. Though they aren't really mentioned in this chapter, this is an X-Men fic so they will be in the story. Rogue's bio (obviously) has been changed. Magneto has yet to make any bold moves and his name is not widely known. This is a cross between Evo and Comic-verse, well as some of my own crazy AUness.**

**Hehehe… Enjoy!!!**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **

Chapter One

People with desolate faces shuffled around. Their eyes were as hallow and empty as their stomachs. Frankly, Mystique was disgusted. _Damn Magneto to hell. When I told him Bayville was boring I didn't expect him to send me out on a mission to find some goddamn hobo. He didn't even give me a name or description. The bastard. _

According to Magneto, Mystique's oh so loving boss, there was some mutant around here that would be a huge asset to their cause. How he came by this information Mystique didn't know, but at least he gave her a fairly exact location. Finally, she reached the particular broken down section of the slums that she was looking for. Surprisingly enough, the area had managed to achieve new levels of shittyness even amidst the filth surrounding it.

_So, this is where Erik's secret weapon hides. Pathetic. _Mystique stepped up to one of the various decaying buildings. It was crumbling and the smell of rot pervaded the air around it. The windows were boarded up with cracked plywood that sported the symbols of several local gangs. Trash was piled up so heavily along the wall it acted almost like a buffer. She made another noise of disgust in the back of her throat and quietly began entering the building.

Inside was not much better than the out. To say the least it was a bit warmer, but that was all. Everything was covered in dust and grime. Large, molding water stains were the walls' only decoration, and in many places the stucco was crumbling. The place showed no signs of being inhabited. Mystique kicked some wayward trash to the side, feeling the anger rise to the surface. Once again she was sent on a fruitless mission with faulty information.

Grumbling, she surveyed the area one last time. She was about to leave when she noticed something. In the corner of the room there was a concentration of refuse. The dry wall there was dirty, yes, but it was different, like some one had smeared it on instead of nature and neglect taking their coarse. She then noticed a small seam between the two sections. It was a hiding place pure and simple. Mystique walked toward it and began to bend down to get a better look—_click._

"Ah wouldn't move if Ah were you sugah, might be bad for your personal health," a southern voice drawled out behind her. Mystique froze. The voice was obviously female and young, but it carried an edge to it. She knew that the person behind her had a gun trained on her back and wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Mystique raised her hands slowly and looked back as discretely as she could.

The figure was hooded and in the bad lighting she couldn't make out any details. Who ever it was knew what they were doing, and kept enough distance to make it hard for Mystique to turn around and disarm them. The gun had an almost lazy tilt to it, yet it was aimed directly at the center of body mass and it was completely steady. There was a shabby homemade silencer on it, but it looked perfectly functional. Despite the evident threat on her life Mystique remained completely calm, debating how best to convince the mutant not to kill her.

Silence ruled the small room.

"Do you live here?" Mystique asked gently. The silence seemed to grow deeper as the figure neglected to answer.

"I am not here to hurt or harm you, if anything it is quite the opposite. I am a mutant just like you are. I can shift forms to match any person's. Do not be alarmed," she added as she began to transform. Her previously black hair turned to a fiery red and her pale skin became a dark blue. Eyes that were once plain brown became a glowing yellow. Mystique watched her quarry throughout her change and was surprised to find that they hadn't even flinched, or moved and all for that matter. They just stayed completely still, maintaining their nonchalant pose as if nothing of interest happened. Mystique didn't know what she was expecting, but it hadn't been that.

"The man I work for has a dream to gain freedom for all of homo-superior. We have helped many mutants along the way, just as we want to help you." Quiet once more. It was like talking to a wall. Mystique had just about decided her deliberations were getting her nowhere when finally the person spoke.

"Ah know what kind o' help people like you are gonna offer me. It'll come at a price an' Ah really don't feel like payin. Ah got no clue how ya found me, but Ah suggest you leave an' just forget about this little encounter."

"Try to understand here, I just want to help you with your powers. You will be provided with room and board. You will be offered protection from the humans. You are right in assuming that you will have to do something in return. I do not wish to lie to you. If you wish to enjoy what we have to offer, you will have to help fight for the mutant cause. That is not to unreasonable to ask, is it?"

"Yes it is," the voice replied stonily. "Ah'm doin just fine with out you an' have been for a while."

Mystique barely kept herself from snorting, but couldn't really do anything about the sarcasm in her voice. "Oh yes, I can see. You live in an abandoned building right in the middle of the worst part of the ghetto. Obviously you must be doing wonderfully to have such an amazing home."

As she spoke, Mystique turned around slowly. "Honestly life must be going—" Her sentence ended abruptly as her breath caught. She was now fully facing the figure. While Mystique had guessed the other woman was young, she hadn't expected her to be quite this young. She looked to be a girl no older than seventeen. The child was beautiful, yet her natural beauty was marred by the tell tale signs of hardships. Rich auburn hair with startling silver streaks running through it peaked out from under her hood. She had full lips and a face that would have been perfectly sculpted were it not for the sharp angles of malnourishment. Her skin was flawless but for the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes. The eyes themselves were deep set and green like emeralds, yet possessed qualities closer to obsidian. They were dark, hard and formed by the hottest fires the world had to offer.

If the aged weariness on the girls face had not given away her situation, the rest of her appearance would have. She was wearing an old sweatshirt and a large jacket over it designed to keep the water out. She wore large and ragged jeans tied up by a belt with worn holes in them that made it possible to see the second pair of jeans underneath them. Her shoes were so torn that any other person probably would have thrown them away months before. Her hands also spoke a great deal. The one holding the gun with an eerie calm was gloved. The other was bandaged with a piece of cloth. Small bloodstains were visible by the knuckles and her fingernails were bloody and cracked as well.

Mystique is not what anyone would call a compassionate person, but some of her maternal instinct must have still been alive, as she felt an icy pain slice up through her stomach and into her heart.

"My child, I don't care what you say, but you are not doing 'just fine'. This place can't even be considered a house, let alone a _home_. Please, come with me and let me help you. I know you don't want to die as another young Jane Doe on the streets." The girl stiffened at Mystique's words. It might have been that they struck a chord with her, or the feeling behind them. Maybe it was because they were simply the truth. Even so there was still hesitation spawned by the cynicism of years of harsh teachings.

Mystique stepped out closer to the girl, arms out stretched to embrace, unheeding or uncaring of the danger the gun pointed at her chest presented.

The young mutant looked surprised as she backed away. "Do you even have any idea what my powers are?"

"You can absorb and incapacitate those you touch. That means that this is more necessary than it would ever be otherwise. You can find the truth out this way. I do not claim to be a good person, but I promise to care for as long as you let me." The girl once again stared, obviously shocked that even knowing about her powers, Mystique was still willing to risk the contact. Her eyes went far away as she wrestled with some inner conflict the decision was causing. Eventually the gun dropped to her side and she went to her hidden den. Brushing past Mystique, who saw the outline of a second gun tucked into the back of the pant's waist, she retrieved a small bag of possessions.

"You know lady, it ain't smart to make promises you can't keep. Hell, ya haven't even given me a name yet."

"I have as many names as I do forms, but those who know me call me Mystique. And those I like are occasionally allowed to call me Raven Darkholm. What about you child?"

"…" The question set off something in her expression, but only for an instant.

"Well Raven, Ah guess you could call me Rogue."

~~~xxooxx~~~

Raven was on her way back to Bayville with her young companion now in the car with her. It would be a six day long road trip that would hopefully allow Rogue sometime to gain some much needed weight and strength. Before they had left, they stopped at a small motel where Rogue showered while Mystique bought her better fitting clothes. With out all the baggy layers Rogue was skinnier than Mystique had first guessed. When she asked the girl about the abrasions on her hand it was met with a stony silence and a blank look. Though she had been unable to see any other injuries, there were bound to be more. She doubted her new ward would have survived another winter in that place. Her accent gave her away as a southerner, why would she go so far north of her native environment? They were just leaving Oregon.

Next to her Rogue stirred, whimpering and flinching away from whatever terrors haunted her past. She continued muttering in her sleep, and Mystique felt pity laced with hate course through her. Whoever destroyed this child would pay. Rogue had dropped off into a slumber right after eating and only had about twenty minutes of peaceful sleep. With the hard lines of life gone and her eyes closed she looked even younger than before. Mystique now put her at around fifteen or sixteen, much too young to be so _old_. Oh yes, for their trespasses they would pay; the world would pay.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Not that bad I hope. :) I know Mystique might be a little off, but this is how I had always viewed her in the comics. She does love Rogue but she made some mistakes. A lot of mistakes. Stay tuned, next chappie is "Enter Brotherhood" who knows maybe I'll throw some X-Men in there. By the by I am a lazy butt hole with ADD, so you want fast updates review.**

**REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rogue looked listlessly outside her window. It had been almost a week since Mystique picked her up. True, she hadn't been in cars as much as the average person, but she knew that Raven was dragging this out. It wasn't overly necessary, but Rogue still appreciated it. Meeting new people, or being around people in general was always nerve racking. Mystique had made it very clear that she was to think of this "Brotherhood" place as her home, and all the people in it as her family. It was a ridiculous gesture. Families and homes are dressed up variations of chains and prisons. She knew this. So why did relief wash over her when Mystique had told her this? It was worrisome, ties and bonds always led to trouble and were painful to cut and leave behind. This would have to be dealt with it later, there were too many things on her mind right now.

When she wasn't sleeping or eating, Rogue would normally talk to Mystique about the Brotherhood. The first few talks had been completely centered on the ideals, methods and goals that the group maintained. It was almost like Mystique thought Rogue was going to jump out of the car at any moment if she didn't keep going on about how the Brotherhood was so perfect. Eventually though, they got to the point where Mystique had begun to tell her about the daily life and annoying tendencies of the other wards. In all honesty, Rogue like the idea of a broken down boarding house filled with unruly boys, a lot better than a group of tragic heroes fighting against the world for justice.

Buildings and people of the suburbs blurred by as the car sped on. Bayville was only twenty or so minutes away and so far it was exactly like Mystique had described it. The air was surprisingly clean, given how close they were to New York, and the sun was out and shinning with hope. People seemed to be smiling everywhere and colors were clear and bright, all in sharp contrast to the dark and dour haze of fog she had gotten used to over the past few months. She rested her head on the window frame while her fingers began drumming a tattoo on the armrest in boredom. Yes, boredom, most definitely not in anxiety.

"Nervous?"

"No," Rogue answered.

"Don't worry my dear, if you start fussing over it you're going to be terribly disappointed. My bet is that they have yet to even clean the house or do the dishes. Honestly those boys are disgusting I don't even know why I bother to put up with their filth…" Mystique continued her rant about the utter lack of hygiene the Brotherhood boys possessed while Rogue began to wind down. It's not like she cared over much about others opinions, and from what she had heard, these boys would never pose much of a threat in a flat out fight. It was ridiculous, but that phobia of people refused to die. This was a new situation with new characters in play. Emotions were unnecessary, and a hindrance, where logic and analytical thinking would be needed most.

The car began to slow as a beaten sign reading **" Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House" **came into view. As always, reasoning and resolve won, and any anxiety previously felt, had now suffocated under layers of protective apathy.

As she got out of the car and followed Mystique into the house, she took in her surroundings. The building was slightly run down (still in much better repair than any thing she had stayed in for a while, of course). Compared to the other houses in the district it needed a new paint job a good five years ago, the lawn in front looked like it hadn't even been rained on for few months, and the drive way was a mix of cracked cement and dirt. The only thing out on the yard that looked like it was cared for was the Jeep; it was dirty like the rest of the surroundings, but it still looked loved.

As they were walking to the door a loud crash was heard and the house shook. Rogue couldn't help but smirk at the list of punishments Mystique muttered as the she open the door into chaos. The walls were cover by what appeared to be splotches of food, and the floor was more so carpeted by empty pizza boxes and littered cans than anything else. An extremely large blonde boy was cowering under the kitchen table, completely unaware of their presence. With a sigh he got up and turned to face them. He blinked a couple of times and then broke out into a wide grin.

"Mystique, am I sure glad to see you. I was getting worried Lance might actually—"

"Toad I am gonna FUCKING KILL YOU!" roared a young mans voice. It was accented by more bangs and crashes as a wiry boy tumbled down the stairs. The boy began making a hasty retreat towards the back wall. He looked greasy and unkempt, and his skin had a greenish tinge to it.

"I said I was sorry, yo. Nothin' bad happened. No need to all berserker on me. Heh heh. Right Lance?"

"No need! You STOLE MY FUCKING **CAR** you FUCKING IDIOT!!!" The enraged voice cried. Its owner stepped out into view just as the little slime ball had backed himself completely against the wall. This boy was nothing like the first. He had a rugged look, yes, but instead of being repulsive it screamed, "Wild bad boy." His hair was just the right degree of messy and his strong chin was cover by the perfect amount of stubble to give of the vibe tough and dangerous. He wore combat styled boots and causally ripped jeans. He had a tight black t-shirt on with a ripped and torn vest that easily revealed strong, muscled arms. Arms, that almost every teen-aged girl would dream to throw herself into.

The "Toad" squirmed as Lance grabbed a hold of his shirt and reared his fist back for the punch.

"Lance," Mystique said coolly. "As much as he might deserve it, the team would gain absolutely no benefit in Toad's death. Besides you'd just be depriving yourself of one extra set of hands to help clean this place up."

Lance dropped Toad to the ground and turned to face Mystique. His mouth worked for a few moments before he over came his surprise. Scratching the back of his head, he cleared his throat.

"Mystique, I'm so glad your back." Lance gulped and cleared his throat once more when the shape shifter's expression clearly showed her doubt in the truth of that statement. "Um, if you would have called and told us when you'd be back, we could have made sure that the house would look, ahh, more…presentable."

His stammering stopped as he saw the girl standing beside Mystique. With her small, amused smile, unique hair, and entrancing green eyes, Lance couldn't help but be a bit distracted. She was hot, even covered up by the baggy sweatshirt like she was. His face began to redden as he realized exactly how disgusting the whole place was and what a bad first impression he had just made.

"Why hello there, little lady. And who might you be?" asked the Toad as he stood up and slicked back his oily hair with his hand. He began to saunter over to her, when Mystique flipped him right on to his backside.

"This is Rogue, she will be joining our little merry band of mutants. I suggest you all show her proper respect, because if she hasn't already I will kill you." The Toad nervously laughed and scooted back as fast as he could. Satisfied, Mystique turned for the door. As she left she called back over her shoulder, "Be polite and introduce yourselves, will you? I'm going to get some food and pick up some industrial strength soap. I'll be back in twenty."

With that she slammed the door, leaving the three awkward boys with their newest housemate. Lance coughed, all of his usual confidence gone. "Uh hi. Sorry about the mess, it isn't usually this bad. I'm Lance Alvers, you can also call me Avalanche. I can pretty much destroy what ever I want by sending strong pulses through them. I guess you could say my specialty is earthquakes."

"I'm Freddy," the previously forgotten blonde said. "I am unmovable and am really strong. I'm pretty new here, only got in last week. Oh yeah, my nickname is the Blob." His smile was surprisingly boyish and timid. Despite his size and girth it made him look almost cute.

"Ah-hem, please allow me to introduce myself. I am the Toad, or Todd Tolensky, at you service. I have super agility and climbing abilities, as well as super good looks. I can spit gobs of sticky slime, and, haha, have one hell of an amazing tongue."

Rogue was saved from the need to wipe that suggestive look off the guy's face since Lance clocked him on the back of the head with all his strength, making the greasy boy fall to the ground with an oof.

"Fucking little perv can't you just be normal for like two minutes. Honest to God, your gonna get yourself killed one day 'cause you act so damn stupid all the time." The larger boy sighed and turned to Rogue. "Believe it or not Toad isn't that bad of person, once you get past the looks. And the smell. And the way he acts. And *sigh* well, underneath it all he has a few decent traits even if you can't see them most of the time."

The seconds began to tick by. With no small amount of amusement, Rogue noted their mounting discomfort at the fact that she had yet to say a thing the whole time she had been here. Lance rubbed the back of his head distractedly as he looked very intently at the wall. Freddy looked at his hands while twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting. Even Toad's yellowish eyes were focused on the floor with some shame.

"Well boys," she said coyly. "Ah have a feelin' Ah'm gonna like it here a lot. Now, which one of ya all are gonna be a darlin' an show me to my room." She almost let out a chuckle as she watched them fight at the base of the stairs for the chance to be her guide. This was just to damn easy.

~~~xxooxx~~~

Later that night they were all lounging around the T.V on one of the various couches and chairs that made up the living room, enjoying Chinese take-out. Even Mystique was eating dinner with them, which by the boys' reaction, was a rare thing. During a commercial the woman spoke up.

"Rogue, Fred, you should both go to bed early tonight. Lance and Toad can do the cleaning by themselves. After all, you will both be starting your first day at school tomorrow."

Rogue promptly began to choke on the rice she had been eating. "Wow, wow. Back it up. When did Ah agree to go to school?"

Mystique gave her a level look, but amusement danced in her eyes. "Everyone on my team must go to school. Though they are ignorant fools, humans have shown the strength knowledge provides. The skill sets taught there might very well come in handy one day. Hence, the need to go."

Rogue couldn't keep the shock from her expression. Her jaw practically fell from her face when she heard the quiet chuckles from the boys around her. It had been years since the last time someone had had a laugh at her expense and gotten away with it. Then again, he didn't really get away with it, did he? Which was the true wonder, the fact that they didn't see the danger that goading her presented, or the fact that she didn't really care.

Rogue took the last bite of rice from the carton, threw it on the coffee table, and got up.

"Goddamn stupid, blue bitch," she muttered quietly. Chuckles turned into roars of laughter that bounced around the building. As she walked up to her new room the only break in the sound was Lance breathlessly crying, "Holy crap, man, I can't _wait_ till she meets the X-Geeks."

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Well… phew done with that. Ha next chapter some real action begins. Even I can't wait and I KNOW what's going to happen. Now I know some of you are probably a little disappointed in this one, there wasn't a bunch of action and it wasn't as beautifully written as my first, but hang in there the next one is good (well it looks good in my head, but a lot of not so good things look fantastic up there). I'm really going to try to showcase Rogue's attitude and bring back the southern sass she has in the comics. X-Men in this one for sure. If you write to me fast enough you might be able to influence who's POV this one takes place. ******

**Thank you to the three people who actually reviewed. This would have come out a lot sooner if others had bothered. Honestly guys you can take a minute. Press the green button, open up the window, and tell me exactly how brilliant I am.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I honestly have nothing to say. I mean what has it been. Like two months. Oh well I blame you guys for not reviewing enough. Hmm but this is a pretty long chapter so I hope you can forgive me, not that I'm apologizing or anything. Most of this was written between the hours of 12 to 2 AM so if it is lacking in sense, sorry. I also use more pronouns than I intended, so if it gets confusing feel free to ask about a scene.**

**Theevilhillbilly****, this may or may not be a Logue, most likely not. But I may dabble in it. **

**Devilangel7863, you asked a lot of questions dude… thank you!!!! Um, let's see most of them will be answered in chapters to come. The brotherhood will grow, Tabby will switch, of course there is going to be Wanda and Pietro. I just like John to much to not include him. And this wouldn't be much of a fanfiction if there were no pairings. I got a couple down, but I'm still kind of debating with Rogue.**

_**Things in italics are thought or telepathic communication.**_

**With out further a due, **

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Fuck God damn it where the hell is she," Lance swore as he paced back and forth in the small kitchen. He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his. Mystique had explicitly told them not to be late today, and at this rate they were going to be exactly that. Freddy had been down for a while eating a breakfast that was big enough to feed an entire homeless shelter, and even the Toad woke up a few minutes early to brush his teeth make it down.

"Jesus, what is taking Rogue so long?"

"Oh that's why you're so antsy. She said that she needed more beauty sleep and would meet us at the school," Fred stated cordially. Lance just kind of stared at him for a few moments, that information would have been really useful earlier… A roar sounded through the house as Lance tore up the stairs.

There was a moment's hesitation at the door. Mystique had told them what Rogue's powers did, and to be honest, the girl was pretty scary in her own right. But Mystique was defiantly worse.

The door flew open and the three boys busted in to the room. Rogue was lying in the bed on her stomach, tangled in a mess of cheap sheets. She was still wearing that sweatshirt and must have been pretty over heated, because sweat plastered her hair to her face, despite the cool of late autumn air. Silence rang, and now that they had entered the room none of them wished to disturb the stillness. In silent mutual consensus, the boys began to back away, but before they had made it a step, the muscles through Rogue's body tensed and she awoke with a jolt. No one noticed how her pupils expanded and contracted, or her lips quivering to hold back a scream, all they saw was they dark scowl that graced her features a split second later. Beautiful emerald eyes served as lenses for killer intent.

"Uh, um…hi, uh, Rogue. I told Lance what you said but, um, he didn't want you to miss your first day of school. Heh heh sorry?" The big blonde gulped. This girl was even scarier than his mother. Freddy didn't even care that Lance was now glaring at him too.

"I was just thinking that you wouldn't have a ride to school and Mystique had specifically said that she wanted you to go today…" Lance trailed of as the full intensity of that death glare settled upon him. "You know on second thought I'm sure you can manage. Uh, just try to be in by lunch so we can show you your last two classes."

The boys began to make good on their hasty retreat, hoping that they could get out of the room with all body parts intact. They had just about made it to the door when Toad, who Lance could've strangled at that point, turned back around.

"You might want to take off the sweat shirt and find a thermometer. You might be sweatin' out a fever or something." Lance had been sure that she was going to bite the Toad's head off, and was amazed to find the tension in the room dissipating. She looked slightly surprised and brought her hand to her brow. The edge in her glare softened a little as she sighed.

"Thanks, you guys go to school, Ah'll meet up with you in a couple of hours." With that dismissal the three raced to the car happy to have gotten off scotch free. Inside the house, Rogue watched them leave, relieved that they were too stupid to interpret their observation correctly. Fever, she thought, those guys were some serious dumb asses. After the unwanted disturbance, Rogue lost the nerve to tempt her sleep and dreams and slowly got ready. She sighed and looked out the window. Somehow she got a sense that today was not going to be that much fun.

~~~xxooxx~~~

Well, Rouge couldn't help but think to herself, at least I was right. That was the silver lining to the whole situation, although being wrong would have been much nicer. Way nicer.

She hadn't ended up going to school today. Sure that might not have been the proper way to start off your career at a new school, but she didn't have high hopes that her time there was going to be that overly fantastic anyway. After hearing the basic run down from Toad and Lance, she was pretty happy that she had skipped. Apparently Freddy had gotten himself into some major trouble with top of the social hierarchy by trying to flirt with the football captain's girlfriend. It didn't really help that she happened to be a part of the X-Men, too.

Lance in his own painfully biased terms explained who they were. He gave a run down of a few of their members and they sounded pretty strong. It was a shame that mutants as powerful as these would likely die because a human stabbed them in the back while they were facing the other way to protect them. Yet this was how the world worked, stupidity and morals got you killed. Good intentions and hope were just mirages that lead you astray in the desert of reality.

Somehow Rogue managed to go from listening to Lance's ranting to dodging bullets in an abandoned warehouse in the space of half an hour. Funny how life worked. She covered her head with her hands as lead began slamming into the back of the crates she was using for cover. Rogue began to curse her own idiocy. Freddy had decided that he wanted to walk and didn't come home from school with the other two. After about an hour Lance began to worry and the three went out to look for the giant. For the first time in years Rogue went outside without concealing a gun, and was paying the price for her stupidity. Not only that, she didn't even think to go back for even when they decided to split up and search.

It was amazing that there were just as many overzealous bigots in the bright and sunny town of Bayville as there was in any other shit hole she had lived in. Guess location doesn't change how much humanity sucks. More of the Friends of Humanity's slugs came raining against her wood shelter, determined to be the one that would actually kill her.

From behind her shelter she had quite a nice vantage of the whole scene playing out below. The red head, presumably the one known as Jean, was flashing around big telekinetic shields. From behind them, a guy in tight form fitting spandex shot off lasers from his visor. The way Lance described him, Rogue wouldn't have guessed that that could be Cyclops, but for the powers. She once again appraised the X-Men field leader. For a clean-nosed, goodie-two-shoes he look pretty good. With bulges in just _all_ the right places.

Beside the one-eyed wonder were two other teens that looked a couple years younger than their leader, a petite brunette and, well, a furry blue guy. The brunette she guessed was Shadowcat, because she would phase into the floor and then come back out thirty seconds later carrying guns. The blue fur was pretty much a dead give away for Nightcrawler, who would poof next to a gunman, knock him out, and poof right back into Jean's shield.

In the middle of everything was her missing team member making a mess of things. Fred was basically attacking anything that moved, be it FOH or X-Men. To the red head's credit though, there was a shield around the Blob that would flicker to life every time bullets got to close him.

Suddenly the gunfire thundering against her cover stopped. She looked across to find the group of men that had been shooting at her out cold on the floor, with that distinct cloud of smoke surrounding them. Rogue felt a tug from her conscience, which was disconcerting since that particular emotion rarely made an appearance. She sat in shock for a few seconds before she figured out what her virtually non-existent scruples wished her to do. Since the hail of gunfire no longer impaired her, she should get of her butt and go help the X-Men and Freddy kick FOH ass. While Rogue was generally a person of little principle, she somehow retained an odd sense of honor, albeit honor that was only acted upon when self-preservation was not at stake, but still honor none the less. Freddy was her teammate, and blue guy had unknowingly saved her from becoming Swiss cheese.

She managed to grab the nearest gun with out being seen by anyone. It appeared that the only people that were aware of her presence were the first group of men that shot at her; even the telepath hadn't seemed to notice. She made a tight fist within her gloves and began to formulate a plan. The gloves were one of the very things she kept after Mystique picked her up. They were comfortable and worn black leather, biking gloves, yet they were still incredibly durable. Maybe the best thing about them though, was the strap she could rip off to reveal her knuckles.

Rogue eased herself into a good position, gun and exposed skin at the ready. She took aim with the machine gun silently wishing that she had been able to pick up one of the shotguns, or rifles she had seen some of the men using. Fred and the X-Men were doing fine except for a group of twenty or so men up in the warehouse lift. They had gotten smart and were ready if Shadowcat or Nightcrawler tried to disarm them. Rogue couldn't understand why Cyclops didn't just shoot the support chords that held the lift up. Maybe because he thought the fall could be potentially harmful to people trying to kill him and his friends. Idiot. Luckily Rogue held no such qualms.

The automatic weapon roared to life. For a few seconds the FOH looked about in confusion trying to find out who had fired at them and why no one was dead, when they heard a loud snap. Then they started to panic. The fighting down below stopped for a moment as everyone froze to see what was going on. The chords holding the platform up began to unwind. The shrieking of the tortured metal deafened all those present and caused all those on the lift itself to frenzy.

Most of them started running toward the crane that held them up, while a few of the sane ones realized that's where the most tearing had happened. It was only a matter of seconds before they were all toppling down. Rogue laughed to her self. She got lucky. The chords were remarkably weak, this gun was better than she realized, and she was up against a particularly stupid adversary. Not only had she gotten lucky but she also decided not to kill anyone.

With an enemy as potentially annoying as the X-Men she would need to accrue as much trust as possible. She figured that it wouldn't matter if she was on the Brotherhood, as long as she didn't kill, they would always be ready to trust her, like the complete naïve idiots they were.

The most of the men that had been toppled began to fight, but some were nursing injuries ranging from sprains to broken bones. Rogue dashed of again, shooting at the crates for what she needed. In box number seven she found it. The crate was stacked on top of five other cases and was near level with one of the small windows that were scattered around the warehouse. Perfect.

Rogue hid herself in a pile of splintered and shattered wood twenty or so feet away, and as a huge gust of wind blew through the building released a rain of lead upon the crate. She aimed for the wood's sweet spots and within seconds it burst releasing a white powder on to the battlefield. Rogue ran into the cloud to where she had seen Fred last. Visibility was low but his hulking form was hard to miss.

"Fred, ya dumb ass, come 'ere."

"Rogue is that you?" His out line turned to face her, and he began lumbering forward. As soon as he was close enough she brushed her knuckles across his arm. The boy began to wobble and Rogue suddenly grabbed him, and, using his own strength, threw Fred out the side of the building. The X-Men took the new escape route that had been offered to them. Rogue's lips widened into a predatory grin, now that the X-Scouts were gone she could take care of these guys as she pleased.

Rogue began a game of shoot and run. She ran over to one area shot at the men for a few second and then sprinted over to another to avoid the return fire. The last time she had been in this big a brawl was years ago, back when she had been in the south. She was enjoying the chorus of the gunmen's scream when the startled voice of Cyclops made it over the din.

"Jean what the hell is going on in there?!"

"I don't know Scott the men seem to think that they're getting hit by friendly fire since the cloud is blocking their sight."

"Does it matter," an unfamiliar voice growled. "Why can't we just let the bastards shoot each other?"

"No Logan, it is the X-Men's purpose to apprehend and bring such men to justice. Though death may be appropriate for their crimes, that is up to the courts to decide." Rogue was suddenly beginning to feel uneasy. The two voices that had spoken right then were both unfamiliar, and older. Lance had said that Xavier had teachers at the Institute that would help the senior team of students fight off threats.

The female voice was obviously Storm, since she was apparently the only female teacher. And Logan was the name of the one called Wolverine. Rogue felt like banging her head against a wall. Not only was the room full of FOH, but now there was a weather witch and berserker with super senses.

The four began to fan out. Wolverine was the furthest from her while Scott was the closest. As the X-Men's leader passed he failed to notice the shadow stalking him. Rogue slipped off her glove and when he was close enough pinched the back of his neck. Both of them went down in a heap. They stayed like that for a minute before Rogue was able to push thoughts of plane crashes to the side and move on. Using her power on mutants twice in a day had been taxing, not to mention the fact that most of the haphazard memories had not been particularly happy.

Rogue used Fred's strength to pick the other mutant up and deposit him in a safer location. She sighed in frustration. Due her little shooting escapade she was as far as possible from both the real exist and the improvised one, and to get to either she would have to fight through the FOH and possibly the X-Men.

The wind in the room began to pick up. It moved in odd and shifting patterns, and after a few seconds Rogue realized that the weather witch was trying to clear the cloud of powder.

"Crap," Rogue snarled to herself. It took a couple seconds before she figured out that she was acting retarded for the second time that day. For someone with super strength _and_ optic blasts, the wall behind her shouldn't pose too much of an obstacle for escape. She called up Cyclops's power and was about to fire when she heard a woman's scream.

_JEAN!!!_

Rogue cried and sank to her knees. She tried to use the Blob's strength, but as she did, she felt another crippling wave of need to help the red head. Both Fred and Scott had worked themselves into a frenzy trying to go over to the telepath's aid.

_Jean, Jean don't worry I'll help you just hold on. Nothing bad will ever happen to you while I'm here. I swear._ The ghost of Cyclops banged at the barriers of her mind screaming his undying love. It was giving Rogue a headache and nausea just to listen to, but the fact that she was partially feeling it made it worse. Fred's voice was also making a racket screaming about how he wouldn't let any of his friends get hurt.

The dust was almost clear, and the girl silenced both voices with the promise that she would help Jean. She straightened and glowered at the two boys in her head. These stupid male hormones were going to get her into some serious trouble.

~~~xxooxx~~~

Jean couldn't believe her mistake. As Ororo was clearing up the haze she had seen Scott's unconscious form lying half hided in a pile of barrels and lost her concentration. It had been right at that moment when a bullet had grazed her leg. The pain was sharp and unexpected. Because of her lack of familiarity with physical pain a sudden cry escaped her lips before she was able to do anything to prevent it. Several of the shooters began firing at her, but by then she had regained her composure and used her telepathy to block out any pain.

_Jean,_ Ororo projected. _Are you alright?_

_Yes I'm fine Storm, thank you. But Scott is unconscious and I have no clue what happened._

_It's alright, my child, all it means is we'll have to end the battle quickly._

Jean agreed with the sentiment and began to push the attackers roughly against the ground using telekinetic force, but she could only do so much while making sure to protect the others and was beginning to feel the strain. A powerful gust of wind blew out the last remnants of powder and what she saw made her loose her control for the second time that day.

Bodies, everywhere. They were all riddled with bullet holes and staining the ground red. There were around twenty-five or so lying dead and a couple more spouting their last bits of life blood each second. They all looked like the stray bullets of their comrades had killed them, except for one. He lay on the ground with a look of abject horror and pain upon his face. His knees, ankles and elbows had been shot out, and there was a huge whole in his chest where his heart should have been. Jean felt a mix of terror and hysterical relief that Xavier had made her strengthen her mental shields.

"Red! Look out!" Jean heard Wolverine's stricken cry, but her addled mind failed to understand its importance. She simply stood in a daze, until a flash of red streaked past her. A man cried out pain and fell to the ground with a thud.

She turned to the direction the beam had come from and shouted, "Scott, you're alright." As she met the eyes of her savior, the normal ruby quartz lens did not greet her, but a shining green with deadly red sparks dancing at their corners.

"Sorry to disappoint ya sugah, but I'm afraid Ah ain't much of a knight in shinin' armor." Jean watched the other girl, stunned as she quickly disposed of an FOH member who had been trying to sneak up from behind. Why hadn't she felt the other mutant presence? The girl simply flipped him over, tossing the man on his head, knocking him out cold. It was done so smoothly and gracefully, Jean was unsure whether it was a fighting style or an elegant dance.

The girl, Jean noticed, had streaks of white running through her hair, and looked startlingly young. The telepath watched as the girl easily evaded bullets and neatly dispatched all those around her. Suddenly the green in her eyes was taken over by red and a full power, wide range beam flashed downing all the remaining men in an instant.

The girl suddenly fell to one knee and Jean was struck by how small she looked, even wearing a baggy sweatshirt. Ororo landed next to her teammate and Logan came jogging up to their side with Scott on his back. They all stared as the girl slowly rose to her feet. She looked at them, body language giving of a vibe like cold steel. The small bit of blood that was splattered on her cheek, not to mention the blood the darkened the sweatshirt in certain places, helped the feeling as well. Surprisingly enough it was the least diplomatic out of the group that spoke up first.

"Well, gotta say kid, those were some damn impressive fireworks. Never seen anyone with Scooter's powers before." No response was given to the statement. Green eyes watched the four X-Men impassively. The emerald orbs turned away and their owner spun on her heel and started making her way over to the large hole in the building wall.

"Wait," Jean cried. She reached out with both her hand and her mind to see the effect of her words. "My name is Jean Grey, my friends and I are mut―" She faltered. She was by no means an expert telepath, and people with shields like Logan's were almost impossible to crack, but what she had felt from the girl before her was something else entirely. Maybe "felt" was the wrong way to phrase it. More precisely it was what she didn't feel that was so concerning.

For a moment Jean had felt absolutely nothing. No thoughts, no emotion, no life. It was like the person in front of her didn't exist. After a second or so she collided with one of the strongest mental barriers she had ever encountered.

The red head must have paled, because the girl gave a knowing smile and walked through the hole. Kitty and Kurt just looked astonished as the girl that looked to be around their age walked through the opening. She passed them and went straight to the large blonde laying on the concrete thirty or so yards away. Their incredulity grew as they saw her lift the boy by his overall strap.

A jeep raced into the lot and screeched to a halt.

"Rogue what the fucking hell HAPPENED!!!" Lance screamed at almost the same frequency as the tires on his Jeep.

"Nothin', much sugah, but I did find blondey like ya asked."

"Oh, man. Mystique is gonna kill me just get in the car we're going. Wait Rogue is that fucking BLOOD. HOLY FUCKING FUCK SHIT!!! How much is yours, do we need a medic? And what the hell happened to Fred can you please…" Lances hysterics died down as the Jeep took them out of earshot. The entire X-Team just stood there.

"Mien gott, who vas that…"

~~~xxooxx~~~

"Are you sure, Jean?" Charles asked.

"Yes Professor, I'm sure. To my telepathic sense there was a split second where she didn't exist. And her mental barriers seem even stronger than Wolverine's. The fact that she is also trained in combat makes me think she is a professional. I didn't think the Brotherhood would ever be able to acquire someone of this caliber."

Logan watched the exchange quietly. Everyone had been asked to give his or her point of view on the fight. All he himself had said was that he had seen her taking out a lot of guys with hand-to-hand and seemed to avoid to inflicting too much bodily harm. He allowed Chuck to see the way she moved between the flowing dance like fighting style to more common and dirty street fight techniques. Letting Charles in his head was a mistake, because now Wolverine was certain the old telepath was aware that he had omitted facts in his report.

There was something vaguely familiar about her and he was sure that he had encountered someone like her before. She had probably saved Jean's life too, so it just felt wrong to tell all that he knew. At this point at least. When the girl, who according to Kurt and Kitty was called Rogue, had passed close he had smelt a large amount of gunpowder on her. **(I know most modern artillery doesn't use gun powder, but I don't know what else to call it) **The scent hung about her in a way that can only happen when you fire a gun several times.

Not only that, but he had seen the ruthless efficiency she had fought with before the powder cleared. There was a reason she was drenched with the blood of others. Either with a bullet to the brain or a knife in the neck, she dispatched each FOH member quickly, if not exactly cleanly.

What bothered him most though was not the killing, but the way she had dropped her weapons when the haze cleared. It put him on his guard. The fact that she had figured out how to make all the deaths look like friendly fire showed her possible cunning and capacity for deceit.

She was young too. The idea of killing might not have perturbed Logan as much as his companions, but the fact that someone that age had the ability to use so much forethought when it came to murder was disturbing. Over the months he had gotten used to Kitty's and the other girls' bubbly natures. To see a child their age posses such a jaded air bothered him deeply.

Logan left the war room just like everyone else on the team had, with one question dominating his mind. Just who and what the hell was the Rogue anyway?

* * *

**Okay umm I hope you liked it if you did please tell me, if you didn't, please tell, if you just wanna talk just press the green button right below. Now I just want get this out there since you all have the right to know. Though they are royal asses in the cartoon, I like both Jean and Scott. Before you sharpen the pitchforks, please know that I have already planned Rogue to have some major conflicts with them, and so they will take on an antagonistic role at points. They will still be perfectly reasonable people and there will be no out right bashing.**

**I hope this fulfilled my promise of action. Next chapter will focus more on the thoughts and emotional state of Rogue, as well as give some small bits on what her past was like. Beware I love slightly off hinge emotionally crippled characters. **

**Now feel free to give you opinion, suggestions, and questions.**

**MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD…REVIEW!!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I won't say sorry that this is so late, cuz I normally don't mean it when I say sorry. I beg for your forgiveness my faithful readers. Anyway you guys****, thanks for all the reviews they were super fantastic and helpful, especially** **High Lord Mage**** and ****Kick Ass Kids****. Again I put this on top priority all week, because I had this sudden revelation that it had been like three months since my last post. *cough* Anyway I know it seems a little rushed, feel free to ask questions if you don't get something.**

_Italics_ **mean anything that happen on the plane of thought, such as telepathic communication, thought, and flashbacks.**

* * *

Chapter 4

Rogue had been attending Bayville High for a little less than a month and already the teaching staff believed that it was her sole purpose in life to raise hell in the classroom. The only thing that she seemed to do at school diligently was sleep and fail. When she wasn't skipping class, the most that she did was fill up a seat. There was also the matter of her name. After that first period where the teacher had the gall to ask about why his attendance sheet only said Rogue… Well, no one asked after that.

The students had reached their own opinions and prejudices against her even sooner. Before Rogue had even set foot in the building, she had already apparently joined the Future Convicts of America just by virtue of coming to school with Lance and his crew, even though it became clear early on that if she were left alone, she would be content to sit in a corner quietly. Rogue would never disrupt class with out some kind of provocation. Not only that, but it was extremely rare that she would ever hang out with Lance and company, or anyone for that matter. If she happened to remain at school for lunch, she would always sit at the same table, alone.

Like everyday the Brotherhood came to school in the jeep and walked towards the entrance of the school together before they would split up. Rogue shook her head and rolled her eyes at Lance's slew of complaints. He always went out of his way to invite her to anything and everything the boys did, despite her constant refusals.

It wasn't that she didn't like them. In fact, she felt closer to them than she had to any living thing since…well, after only a few weeks she felt herself swing dangerously close to something that could be called trust. Trust was the catalyst of betrayal. That had been learned through several years of experience. Rogue was a strong believer in learning from the past. She would consider the Brotherhood teammates; to do anything more would only invite trouble and pain.

"Come on Rogue you've been livin' with us for a month and I swear to God I still hardly know you. You barely speak at the house, you never hang around at school, and the only time you spend more than a couple o' hours with us is when we train with Mystique or watch T.V. You never go out to fight the X-Men. Hell, I don't even know where you spend all your time on the weekends."

"I think you get plenty o' company from Toad an' Fred. 'Sides the bell just rang, an' this is only gonna be my third time not bein' tardy. If it's really eatin' you that much, we can talk 'bout it later, okay."

Lance opened his mouth to protest but contented himself to grumbling instead. Rogue walked into the crowded halls of Bayville High slipping between people efficiently. Despite her infamy, no one noticed her as she passed, until she happened to stumble upon Jean Grey and friends. If it wasn't for the fact Jean was a telepath, Rogue was certain that the other girl wouldn't be nearly as good at picking Rogue out in a crowd. It was a little disconcerting that she had become increasingly better at it.

The red head called out, and due to lack of response, decide to just smile and wave. Rogue had noticed, with some amusement that over the past month the good cheer slowly became more and more strained. Next to Jean, the little group of happy mutants bared their teeth in fake smiles as Scott squirmed. It was obvious that Scott got uncomfortable whenever Rogue was around.

Rogue couldn't help herself, whenever she saw Scott, she always shot him a small grin. It was not one of happiness, but one of knowing and recognition. He himself was not fully aware of the gesture's true meaning, but he was able to perceive enough to understand and fear it. Rogue was able to derive some form of dark contentment in the knowledge that even the leader of the noble X-Men was not an endless well of purity. She took her seat in first period and let the memory wash over her.

_FOH were shooting wildly through the haze, only becoming more frantic as they realized that their comrades were dying all around them. Rogue was silently stalking them, being pushed and prompted by the ghost of Scott Summers and the cries of Jean Grey. As she went up to disarm and incapacitate another man, her bare knuckles just barely brushed under his chin. The so-called "Liberator of Humanity's" thoughts slithered into her mind._

_He had caught a glimpse of Jean and when this whole matter was over he had decide to take a few liberties, before purging the world of another piece of mutie scum. Rogue was not the only one to feel the man's thoughts; the ghost of Scott felt, and called out against them. Within a second the X-Man tore the FOH in her mind to pieces, and he was screaming for the same to happen in the physical world. _

_Coupled with her own lust for blood, she was completely overwhelmed by Scott's impulses and took almost a back seat, watching herself. Instead of slitting his throat, she stuffed a piece of wood in his mouth as a gag. Calmly against the blood frenzied screams echoing through her mind Rogue pulled out the gun. Her eyes were cool and promised no mercy._

"_Do you like the idea o' stringin' up innocent girls? I saw that, you got some pretty nasty fetishes up in that head o' yours. And you've actual done a couple o' them too. Looks like you get off on blood, hmm? Well I can help with that." The gun fired and the man's scream was lost in the din. At the sight of the mutilated kneecap, Scott gained more control._

"_You sick, perverted, fucking BASTARD!" _

_Every word was accented by a gunshot and by the last outraged cry; all hint of a southern accent was dropped, replaced by educated, sharp, northern articulations. Green eyes, slowly becoming polluted by red and brown, looked down at the pathetic creature. The thing lie writhing, eyes wide and blinded by pain, each movement caused the broken joints to squirt more blood._

_Scott still couldn't stand it. It simply wasn't enough. Rogue watched as the hand clutching a knife rose and came down through a concert of wills. Over and over the knife stabbed, until there was a rough outline of the heart. The man had stopped his thrashing, and his eyes were now unseeing with death. It was not enough. The world had to know, had to see what kind of person this man was. He was heartless and cruel in life, and he would be so in death._

_A hand, empowered by super strength and hatred, plunged deep into the chest. Still warm blood soaked it as clawed around, searching. As it found its prize, the hand pulled out. A jet of fresh blood shot into the air. Scott's triumphant grin slowly twisted into a grimace of horror at what he had done. As he quailed away from the gruesome, shuddering trophy in his hand, Rogue stepped up and took dominance. _

_She was surprised by the faint wave of nausea that took hold when she smashed the organ back into the gaping hole it came from. This was not her crime to regret. She had temporarily lost control of her actions, yet that didn't change what her hand had done. Slowly the young mutant got up, the detour had cost almost a minute of vital time, and made a mental note to make sure to never stray from efficient murder. Ripping out hearts just seemed like bad practice._

Rogue shook her head. After that the X-Man's personality just seemed to wander around the plains of her mind aimlessly, haunted by what it had done. For that, she was grateful. Cyclops's will was strong, and combating his spirit for control would have been tiring to say the least.

The bell rang and the teacher stepped into take roll, arching an eyebrow at Rogue's rare show of punctuality. That was the only break from normalcy in that class. As soon as the man began his lecture, Rogue promptly laid her head on the desk in mock sleep. She never actually fell asleep in school. It was difficult for her to sleep under normal circumstances, and there was no way she would ever willingly loose awareness in a public setting. Feigning sleep was the easiest way to be left alone in class.

While everyone thought that she didn't pay attention at all, in truth she kept careful track of everything that was being said, and processing it to the best of her abilities. Like always her silent attention went unnoticed, and at the conclusion of the period she gave a theatrical yawn and shuffled out the door.

Rogue drifted through her classes as normal until French. She showed up a couple minutes late for it and took her seat. The teacher didn't so much as look at her, so often this routine took place. Even though she didn't get along with any of her teachers, French was the only class she actively hated.

There wasn't anything special about the class, if anything Mr. Loisel was comparatively forgiving. The problem with it was that it was too easy. As soon as anything was taught, she already seemed to comprehend it. It seemed like everything discussed she already knew, sometimes she even understood things before they were taught.

Rogue had sifted through the ghosts, and none of them spoke more than a few words of the language. Not only that, but the ability to recall her ghosts skills, especially one as complex as language, was completely beyond her. So how the hell did she manage to do it?

Mr. Loisel was going through a new list of verbs on a vocabulary sheet. The predicate forms as well as the all of the verbs' meanings came to her in a sickening wave. She was about to wake up from her fake sleep and put in her headsets when the pager Mystique had given to her for emergencies started to buzz.

"Mr. L, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"Should I even count on you coming back, Rogue?"

"Well, if it makes ya feel better sir, ya certainly can." With that she turned and left.

~~~xxooxx~~~

This was as close as the Wolverine every got to feeling happy. Finally Chuck had a mission that would let him pop his claws and bust up some feds. Ororo's best friend's son was getting carted to a government facility, so they were finally going to see some justice done to those bigots. Yeah, they may be under orders to minimize violence, but no one would blame him for a little accident, especially given how much the bastards deserved it. There was only one thing that dampened his mood; Chuck insisted that Scooter lead the mission.

Still, that was only a minor set back now that he was getting in position to ambush the transport van. The escort was coming around the hill and would soon hit the blind spot on the curve. Logan had picked the point of ambush himself, and it was perfect. The road was narrow and far out in the country. There was plenty of cover for the attacking party, while the targets were extremely exposed. A minute jog from the road, there was a small clearing that allowed for quick escape via X-Jet. It was also the least obvious ambush point out of the four on the trucks' route, and therefore the most unexpected. All and all it was ideal.

_Everyone is in their position. Wait for my signal to attack._ As Jean's voice slid through his mind, Logan's heart rate sped up and his senses opened in excitement. He could smell motor oil and technology getting closer thanks to the direction of the wind. Just a few more seconds and―

The ground shook in a sudden fury. Asphalt rose in a wave and maliciously attacked the trucks. A huge boy exploded from the trees and crashed into the holding vehicle, toppling it. The soldiers from the back half of the convoy burst out, training their guns on the kid, only to be rendered blind by several globs of goo. Those that weren't, immediately took cover behind one of the toppled transports. They didn't even see the shadow swiftly approaching, and were caught completely unawares by the gas grenade that knocked them out. The men from the first part of the escort that had been destroyed scrambled out of the wreckage, and was met by another wave of rock.

While all this was going on, the huge blonde had been busy ripping open steel doors and freeing the precious cargo within. The guards had already been dispatched by both the cloaked figure from the rear, as well as one that had busted out of the trees a few seconds after the attack.

The whole attack and subsequent rescue had happened in under a minute. The strategy and tactics that had been employed were genius. The timing, placement, and utilization of assets had achieved a perfection that would have merited the pride of anyone with the ability to see and admire it. Logan stared, his jaw slack. _What the fucking hell!?_

It took the great, unshakeable Wolverine a second to snap out of his trance and start haulin' ass down the hill and to the target that was rapidly slipping through their fingers. His nose wrinkled as he shook his head in disbelief at the pungent tang of the Brotherhood boys. Logan's question of how the idiots pulled it off was answered by the light and subtle scent, almost completely masked by testosterone laden youth. _Her. It's that girl again. It must have been her planning. Where the hell did she get the experience to pull this off? I picked this place 'cuz it wasn't obvious. Where did she get the training to do all this?_

He broke through the tree line and told Jean to get everyone moving. As if on queue, Shadowcat and Nightcrawler burst out. Cyclops was only a beat behind them. The girl immediately trained two guns on Kurt and Scott, all the while keeping everyone in her field of vision. Jean was the first to break the silence.

"What in the world are you guys doing?" The red head cried. Her only response was a blank stare from the girl, Rogue, while her two companions were trying to break the cuffs and taking off the hoods from the freed mutants. Now that Logan looked, he noticed that rock boy was missing, despite the fact his involvement was evident during the rescue.

"Hey! She asked a question. What were you thinking? And for the love of Christ put away the guns!" Scott shouted, looking a little red in the face. This did, however, seem to merit a response. Though the girl didn't shift her eyes, her focus seemed to be directly aimed at Scott.

"I believe we were thinkin' exactly the same thing you all were. And the guns are stayin' up 'til you are gone. For some reason I'm gettin' this feelin' that you're not gonna go with out a fight." The deep scarlet of Scott's face made an interesting contrast to the blue of his uniform.

"Those guards could be seriously injured or dead thanks to you. This will only escalate violence between humans and mutants. Ends will never justify means, or it's all just pointless barbarianism."

"Come on X-Man, I'm sure there is something in this world that could move you to pointless killing. And you know, it's circumstance, not ends, that justify means." The speech was delivered coldly, and there was a strong under current of double meaning to it. It managed to stem Cyclops's preaching, too. Logan took this as permission to take over.

"Look. We don't want any trouble. We just came here to spring the kiddies here. Now if you could let us take porcupine here back to our place, we'll let you be." This brought the group's attention to the other members of the Brotherhood party, as well as the escapees. Unfortunately it also brought on a whole new wave of disagreement, as both Evan, the white-haired mutant, and the rest of the Brotherhood began contesting Logan's statement. Rogue just kind of glared at him while the fire works started going off, as if to say, _Shit thanks man, how are we going to stop this now?_

Logan sighed and could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. He tried, unsuccessfully, to shut the group up, but gave up after the third attempt. The Brotherhood and the X-Men started to get up in each others faces, bristling for confrontation. The only one not joining in was Rogue. He turned to the other mutant, only to find her silently appraising him. Logan raised an eyebrow, curiosity beginning to overwhelm him, and found questions suddenly tumbling from his lips.

"I know you set this up. Why did you pick this spot, and where did you get the training to do all o' this?"

"I picked this area 'cuz it was the best. And as far as I know I have never received any trainin'." Logan's brow wrinkled at the odd quality to her voice with the last statement. It was normally beneath his pride to ask an excessive number of questions at any given time, but the questions continued piling up in line, begging to be asked. Beneth their weight, pride lost, and Logan sucked in a breath to resume his interrogation.

~~~xxooxx~~~

Jean couldn't believe it. Just who the hell was Rogue anyway? She just materialized out of no where a month ago, and despite the X-Men's best efforts, they gained no information on her. She kept herself within an impregnable fortress and cruelly shot down all of Jean's attempts to connect.

Why did it seem like the Rogue's frigid attitude only served to attract those around her? Jean was a telepath, and no matter how hard she tried sometimes other's thoughts slipped into her mind. More and more often the boys of the mansion would come home and fantasize about Rogue, and imagine their courageous exploits that would call her attention to them. Several of the girls wistfully dreamt that they too, could look so casually perfect in whatever they decided to put on, like Rogue. These thoughts were common among the teenagers at Xavier's, yet before it had all revolved around Jean.

Just as the first time, Rogue displayed an uncanny capacity for the art of combat. The girl had led the Brotherhood with startling efficiency, and unlocked potential that had never before been seen within the boys. And now she just sat at the side lines while watching everyone squabble like children.

Jean could feel disgust slowly rising within her, making its presence known. It was like Rogue reveled in causing strife. She disregarded order and rules in school, and got away with it constantly. Was that her power, some psychic pulse to get people to favor her? Jean could only feel like her suspicions were being confirmed as hard ass, wary Logan began to chat with her.

Disgust mounted, slowly becoming a fire hot fury. Not only had Rogue managed to convert Logan along with the rest of the world, but there was also Scott. Jean had caught those sly smiles that the white streaked vixen sent him every time she laid eyes on him. Not willing to compromise the morals the professor had taught her, Jean had walled Scott's thoughts off more than others as the temptation to read them became stronger. Even still, she felt the wave of anxiety that went through him when the bitch was near. It was reminiscent of when he had that crush on Lee Forrester in 7th grade.

The first time Scott got a good look at Rogue his immediate thought was of her beauty.

Suspicion and jealousy were being forged in the flames of anger, hammered out into a lance of hatred. Jean could no longer control what was happening within her, only able to play marionette to her impulses, and feelings not completely her own. With rage red closing in on her vision, she shot a bolt of psychic energy at her rival, feeling manic glee at the prospect of breaking down the wall.

It was almost a physical blow when Jean collided with Rogue's mental defenses. Her consciousness went helter-skelter. She was dimly aware of someone crying out in pain and saw Rogue fall to her knees clutch her head. Jean saw Scott rushing toward her looking frantic, but could not make out his words as her astral body completely slipped into the other girl's mind_._

_The first thing that Jean was aware of was the screaming, the thunder of dozens of voices spitting curses, and desperately pleading. She was bombarded by flashes of grotesque and grizzly memories, all passing by to quickly to get a firm grip on. Men being slaughtered, women being raped, children being tortured, the agony of several lifetimes all coming in a sickening flow, utterly disjointed. As she, now almost unwilling, delved deeper into Rogue's mind, Jean passed through another boundary, and the clamor of desperate voices dwindled._

_For a fleeting moment Jean thought she had escaped from seeing more terrors, but that illusion was shattered by the sound of a gun shot. The telepath tried to break away, but the tide of remembrance was to strong, and she was once more sucked in, seeing things from eyes not her own._

_Weary anticipation dominated her as she walked past a group of people. Calmly and quickly she stuck the barrel of the gun to the man's back, and pulling the trigger, not bothering to watch as he fell…_

_Lying prone on an ally floor. The pain pulsing from the wounds on her arms and legs, from the cold working furiously to numb, and worst of all, from the hunger tearing its way through her stomach…_

_A young blonde boy, with sky blue eyes full of gentle kindness, smiled. His beaming grin, outshining the sun setting over the lake…_

_Vision was almost at zero, tears and blood making it impossible to see. The grief was black, empty, and eternal, like a night without stars. The mental anguish drowned out everything else, not like she could really feel the blows raining upon her already shredded back anyway…_

_A woman, with a smile faker than her breasts, trying to explain the importance of names, and why she needed one…_

_There was a man standing next to her in the door way, watching the woman get in her car and leave. He had sweaty palms and nervous eyes, yet as the baby blue Sedan drove out of sight, his timid smile became one of triumph. The door closed with a definitive click and he turned to face her…_

_There was mental jarring as Jean, once more herself, hit yet another barrier deep at the core of Rogue's person. It had an almost burning cold about it. Yet, as suddenly as the chill had manifested, it disappeared, leaving the young mutant to be dragged away from her brief reprieve. Jean could feel the loss of sense of self once more as– _

_GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!_

Burning tears and a burning throat, made themselves known as Jean found herself retching in Scott's protective arms. She shuddered and spat up more bile, crying and muttering incoherently, while he rubbed her back. It was a few seconds before she knew that she would not have to endure the terror of death, and that the lives, no life, that she had seen would not be hers to suffer. With that revelation the world seemed to snap into focus around her, already the things she had seen were fading into memory's haze.

"Rogue, Rogue! Are you alright, what's happening? Rogue!" Jean turned to see Fred in a frenzy trying to reach the girl in question. Rogue was on her knees, looking almost as though she was going to pray, except for the fact she was rocking back and forth whimpering. Her eyes were closed tightly shut and her face was scrunched in concentration. Her fingers were digging into her scalp, as if she was trying to claw to her brain. The girl gave out a final, wounded cry and opened her eyes.

Guilt came crashing down, the weight of shame crushing Jean's heart as she thought of the pain she caused. Yet, as Rogue's eyes locked upon hers fear was the only thing that she felt. Panic sang through her, its silver peal overwhelming. Those green eyes were as calm and dispassionate as ever, yet it was with the cool appraisal of a predator tracking prey.

Jean, at that moment knew that she was going to regret what she had done.

There was a roar, and a green Jeep bust through the trees driven by Lance. The Brotherhood and its latest acquisition clambered in quietly, the tension built with their silence. As the car pulled away Rogue turned around in her seat, and Lance swore loudly. Moonlight glinted off of the white streaks in her hair and the metal of the gun.

It took Jean a moment, but she realized it wasn't aimed at her. Logan's cry split the night.

"Kitty! Down!" It was too late. Kitty stood, rooted to the spot, unable to move or even faze as the gun roared. A scream of mortal agony and shock clapped like thunder, yet was some how overshadowed by the soft thud of a body hitting the ground.

Logan rushed to Kitty tell her she was alright and letting her cry into his chest. The rest of them were paralyzed, looking at the soldier, who was clutching his gut and squealing like a wounded animal. He lay ten feet or so down wind of Kitty, with a large military issued gun an arms reach away.

~~~xxooxx~~~

Rogue stood in Mystique's bathroom. The shape shifter hadn't been home when they all arrived, apparently off on a mission, and Rogue needed privacy. Mystique's room was the only place she was sure to get some quiet. The bathroom was large and rich compared to the rest of the house. It was the kind of place Rogue was inclined to avoid, full of hard marble and cool tile. And mirrors. Rogue hated mirrors. She hated to look at her body. It wasn't the same kind of self conscious hate that most girls felt upon looking at their reflection. It was deeper.

A drop of water hit the tile, and she stared at herself, still wet from the shower. She couldn't decide what she bothered her more: the terrible ugly scars, that haphazardly crossed her body, and held testament to times of rabid violence and painful experiences, or the straight white lines, done with surgical care. The precise cuts held no bitter memories; in fact, they held no memories at all. Rogue had no idea where they came from, and in the end, that's probably what made them worse.

Ignorance bred fear, and Rogue didn't like being afraid. She didn't like the way seeing the scars made her feel. She didn't like how much Jean Grey had been able to shake her up. She hated the feeling of being weak when she thought back to the past.

But she _loathed _the inch and a half of clear black script, branded onto her side just above her right hip. Instinct told her this was the reason she couldn't remember anything before the age of nine. It was the reason behind the scars. It was the reason she could disassemble guns she had never seen before, and knew so many different ways to murder. It was the reason that she couldn't sleep at night. To put it simply, it was the reason her life was so beyond fucked up.

_L49265_. The six digits that inspired bitterness beyond the description of words. The six digits that served as the only life line to the lost and lonely child, searching for the answer why.

* * *

**On that happy note let us retire. I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. I'm sure it was not worth the wait, but what the hell, I do the best I can. This chapter was slightly more gruesome, this is an M fic after all. Anyway next chapter I was planning on developing relationships (not necessarily romantic) between Rogue and certain characters. I also intend to take a look at her not quite so stable mental state. **

**IMPORTANT: I will choose one flashback from the sequence and elaborate on it some so you get a better look at Rogue's past. If I don't get 3 requests for any one thing I will choose my own. Pick the one that piqued your curiosity the most and vote.**

**MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD…REVIEW!!!**


End file.
